Friday – How the World Fell Apart
The fire crackled low as the group settled into uneasy rest. Outside, the wind howled through the broken windows of the old library, rattling the glass like distant whispers. Jas sat up against a bookshelf, their notebook balanced on their lap, the last embers of their pencil scratching against the paper.
“The world didn’t fall apart because of one person,” Jas wrote. “It fell apart because no one could agree on how to fix it. It was greed. It was corruption. It was too many people clinging to power and too many others too exhausted to fight back. It was war, famine, markets crashing, resources drying up… but most of all, it was people turning on each other when they should have stood together.”
They paused, staring at the words, as if hoping that by writing them down, they could stop history from repeating itself. But the past had already buried them beneath its ruins.
A sudden noise cut through the night.
A low, mechanical hum.
Jas froze, their breath catching in their throat. Across the room, Ivy Mae stirred, her sharp eyes darting to the darkened windows. Roman was already awake, his fingers wrapped tightly around his carving knife.
“What was that?” Ivy Mae whispered.
Jas set the notebook down carefully. “Not the wind.”
Roman rose to his feet, his muscles tense. “Stay here. I’ll check it out.”
He moved toward the doorway, silent as a shadow. Jas and Ivy Mae exchanged uneasy glances, every instinct screaming that something wasn’t right.
Then, the lights flickered.
For a split second, a pale glow washed over the room—just enough to see each other’s startled expressions, enough to remind them that electricity hadn’t worked for years.
And then—darkness.
The hum grew louder.
Roman took a deep breath and stepped into the night.
The screen fades to black.